the end of beginning, thomas

xiii, walking after midnight

Overused lungs burnt with crippling, painful exhaustion. Melanie could almost feel her chest on fire as her legs worked quickly to chase after Brenda. The urge to cough suddenly bubbled in her throat, pressing down on her already burning lungs. Oxygen wasn't entering her lungs, and something else had entered her mouth. It tasted horrible, bitter and warm, while having the consistency of tar.

The girl was forced to slow down, the ache in her body to much. Melanie coughed, hacked, gagged; eventually spitting out the strange substance. To her horror, it wasn't a phlegm or a lump of vomit. No, Melanie had spat up something much more grim. It was pure black, a goo. It felt stuck to the inside of her throat, the taste lingering in her mouth.

Her absence had alerted the rest of the group, prompting Newt to drop back to check on her. Melanie had noticed the boy had been struggling due to his limp, always tailing the group, despite having the qualities to lead it.

"Hey! Melanie!", the blonde called out, keeping a keen eye on both the girl and the group. She appeared bent over, palms on her knees and head hung low. At the sound of his voice, her head rapidly turned to him. He observed her, witnessing her wipe her mouth with the back of her hand before breathing and standing up straight. "Are you alright?", Newt asked.

Melanie simply nodded, a far off look adorning her chocolate eyes. Something was bothering her, Newt could see the cogs turning in her brain. The boy didn't pry; partly because he knew Melanie didn't want to be disturbed, but mainly because Newt was wary of the fact she lost everyone she had ever known. He figured if that had happened to him, he wouldn't be open to talking with a bunch of strangers.

Melanie, gaining an ounce of composure, began to run toward the rest of the group, not before she made sure Newt was following. He was, his long legs striding as they attempted to catch up. A song began playing, a beautiful yet odd backdrop to their current situation. The tone was soft, someone was singing about walking after midnight. It reminded Melanie of rainy days or something like that. In all honesty, WICKED taking away all those memories meant she wouldn't be able to know if she heard this before.

Skidding around a corner, Melanie and Newt spot their friends. Their arms pump harder, their legs moving faster as they push to catch up. The group realised the pair were back, seemingly looks of relief cross their faces. Melanie looked to Newt, shooting him a half-smile before moving beside Aris, who looked like a terrified mother.

"What the hell, Mel!", he scolded, however his tone gave away the fact he was dying of laughter on the inside. Both joked like this constantly. It was their attempt at hiding the pain at the thought of losing each other, and maybe the motherly scolding reminded them of a certain sweet, blonde girl who left a huge, hole in both of their hearts.

"I'm alive, Aris!", she smirked, sticking out her tongue. His eyes rolled, head falling back in a swift chuckle. It made Melanie smile too, their small bit of normality in such a dire moment. The group ascended a flight of stairs, breaths echoing. Jorge, stood at the top with a determined expression, nodded to Brenda. A silent conversation between the pair, prompted Jorge to usher the bumbling group to a door.